


Larceny and Other Crimes

by Rhiannon87



Series: Some Sort of Crazy [4]
Category: Uncharted
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon87/pseuds/Rhiannon87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan Drake is a thief and a liar. It'd be a hell of a lot easier for Elena to walk away from him if that's all he was. Series of scenes set during Uncharted 2: Among Thieves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the rewritten/revised version of the fic. The original can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/409211/chapters/678680).

Most people wouldn't go running towards the sounds of gunfire and explosions. Then again, Elena thought as she rounded a corner, her pistol in her hand and her heart pounding, most people wouldn't have specifically asked to get sent into the middle of a war zone, either.

“There, there, are you getting this?”

Jeff nodded, his eye glued to the camera and the camera itself aimed at the mid-air battle raging before them. One of Lazarevic's helicopters was firing on what looked like an office building a few blocks up from the Shangri-La hotel. While the warlord had hardly been shy about his willingness to tear the city apart, this was a new level of destruction.

As Elena watched, the chopper fired a volley of missiles at the mid-section of the building. “Oh, shit,” she breathed. The building buckled inwards, then tilted to the side as it began to collapse. There was nothing they could do but watch it fall.

The helicopter circled over the remains of the building a few times, then veered off into the city. “Should we go check it out?” Jeff asked, indicating the rubble.

Elena looked down the dust-covered street and shook her head. It was unlikely that anyone had survived that, and even if they had, there wasn't anything she or Jeff could do to help them. “No,” she said, making herself turn away. _Can't save everyone, Fisher._ “No, let's track the helicopter. Might lead us to Lazarevic's headquarters.”

He finally lowered the camera and shot her an incredulous look. “You don't wanna go in there, right?”

“No,” she said. Jeff let out a sigh of relief. “If we can get a look, though, get some idea of the size of his forces, that'd be good.”

Jeff still didn't look exactly happy about that, but he nodded and shouldered the camera again. “If you say so.”

Elena led the way through the streets, her eyes on the sky. She could hear the helicopter somewhere up there, but there was no clear line of sight on it. She was about to suggest making for higher ground when the helicopter swung overhead, looping around and opening fire on a nearby rooftop. “Who the hell is up there?”

Whoever it was started shooting back-- they had a grenade launcher or an RPG and damn good aim. The chopper was trailing smoke, but it kept firing. That seemed to be Lazarevic's standard operating procedure for his troops. He had no problem throwing away their lives, even ordering them to fire on each other, if it meant getting closer to his objective. Whatever that objective was.

An explosion ripped through the side of the helicopter, and it went into a tailspin... straight towards them. “Uh-oh,” Elena muttered and grabbed Jeff's arm. “Let's move, come on!”

He moved, but kept filming, which was one of the main reasons she'd brought him on this story. Jeff might complain about being stuck in a war zone, but when it came down to it, he'd shut up and get the footage, no matter what.

The helicopter went careening overhead, close enough that the smoke made Elena's eyes water, and disappeared from sight behind a building. Moments later, they heard the crash, all screaming metal and explosions. “That's just a block up,” Elena said. “Let's go.”

By the time they reached the alley, the helicopter and part of the building were consumed in flame. “So much for tracking down Lazarevic, huh,” Jeff said as he filmed the wreckage.

Elena shook her head. “We’ll find another way,” she said. The rebels had been steamrolled by Lazarevic's forces, and much as she wanted to regard taking out one of his choppers as a good thing, she knew it just meant he'd come down on them even harder. There was no gradual escalation of force with him; if he saw something as a threat, he went all-out to destroy it.

Which was why she'd made such an effort to stay off his radar. They had one pistol between the two of them, and if Lazarevic sent anyone after them directly, they almost certainly wouldn't survive. “Come on,” she said, moving away from the alley to the bombed-out building beside it. “Let's figure out our next move.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said, continuing to film as they walked. The war-torn streets would probably make for decent background footage for an interview or voiceover. “Probably ought to get back to the safe house. Need to upload this and switch out the batteries.”

Elena nodded, her attention on the street rather than the empty building. No doubt Lazarevic would send people out here to investigate soon. They needed to keep moving, or--

Someone whipped around the corner and aimed a gun at Jeff. “Whoa, don't shoot!” he said, holding up his camera like a shield in front of his face.

Elena drew her pistol. “Hey!” she yelled, taking aim, even as some part of her brain told her that the man standing in front of her looked awfully familiar.

Nate spun around to face her, the look of shock on his face a mirror of how she felt. “Nate?” she asked, lowering her gun. This was insane. This was _impossible._ Of all the places to cross paths with her ex... “What the hell are you doing here…?”

He blinked at her, then a stunned smile spread across his face. “Elena--” He didn’t get any farther than that before Jeff tackled him to the ground.

Oh, shit. “Jeff, don’t,” Elena said, holstering her gun and hurrying over to the men before it turned into a brawl. That was the last thing she needed.

Okay, actually, the last thing she needed was to run into Nathan Drake in the middle of a goddamn war zone. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough already. “You know this guy?” Jeff asked as he released Nate’s arms. Nate kept them raised defensively, even as Elena offered Jeff a hand up.

“Yeah,” Elena said. “This is Drake.”

Jeff snorted. “Oh.” Her misadventures with Nate on her previous show weren’t a secret, though she did leave out some of the more unbelievable details. Getting caught up in a competition between two treasure hunters made for a good story and a decent way to get some street cred among more seasoned journalists. And, well, she hadn’t been exactly charitable in her descriptions of Nate since he’d dumped her.

Christ. Over a year since that last phone call, and now here he was, sprawled on the ground in front of her and grimacing melodramatically. “So, what’s your angle on all this misery?” Elena asked and planted her hands on her hips as she glared at him. “Gonna plunder a few temples? Loot the museum?”

“Nice to see you, too,” Nate retorted. She scowled and turned away, flipping through her notebook so she wouldn’t have to look at him. If she kept looking at him, she was going to punch him, and that wasn’t very professional. “Let me guess, you’re here on some noble crusade, right?”

“Actually, we’re trailing a fugitive war criminal,” she said. Which… was a noble crusade, yes, but he made it sound like such an insult. Like she was wasting her time here. “Zoran Lazarevic, have you heard of him?”

Nate blinked, looking startled for a second. “Isn’t that NATO’s job?”

“They think he’s dead,” she explained. It was so easy to fall back into that habit, telling him about her work, her latest story. “Killed in some bombing raid.” She paced away from him again, back to where Jeff had taken a seat on a collapsed wall.

“Oh, and you’re here to prove otherwise,” Nate said, stooping to pick up his fallen gun.

Couldn’t forget that difference, though. Before, when she’d told him about what she was investigating, he’d at least acted interested. Sometimes he’d been actually enthusiastic about her work, given her suggestions for research or contacts. Condescending jackass was new. “You know what,” Elena snapped, whirling back to face him, “this guy’s a real monster, Nate. We’re talking torture, mutilation, mass executions…” She tapped her notebook against her hand and cast another look around the ruined city. This place had existed for centuries, and it was being destroyed by one man and his army for no obvious reason. “But why out here, why tear apart the city, you know? It just doesn’t make any sense!”

Somehow she’d wound up face-to-face with Nate while she’d been talking. He shrugged helplessly, but she knew that guilty look on his face. “Oh,” Elena said, taking a step back. “No.” He tried to look confused, but it was too late for that. “Tell me you don’t have anything to do with this.”

He laughed weakly and shook his head. “That’s ridiculous--”

“There you are, Nate.” A woman ran in from the other side of the street, her dark hair mussed and her bright red shirt smoke-stained and a bit torn. She spotted Elena and Jeff and immediately raised her gun.

Nate lunged for her and pushed her arm down, even as Elena reached for her own pistol. “Whoa, whoa, Chloe, it’s all right, they’re… journalists,” he said.

Chloe, whoever she was, gave the two of them another quick look, then relaxed and holstered her gun. She turned to Nate, apparently deciding that since the other two weren’t threats, they weren’t worth her attention. “Well, we need to keep moving, if we want to stay one step ahead of Lazarevic--”

She knew it. “Oh, man, Nate--” she started, throwing her hands up in frustration. Of course he was involved with that psychopath. He’d never had any sense.

“Hey, hey, wait a minute, now don’t jump to any conclusions, Elena--”

Chloe started snickering, which briefly unified them both in staring at her. “I’m sorry,” she said, in a tone that said otherwise, “but am I, ah, sensing some _history_ here?”

Yeah. Just a little. Elena pocketed her notebook, plastered on her best TV smile, and held out her hand. “Elena Fisher,” she said, giving Chloe’s hand a firm shake. “Last year’s model.”

Nate snorted. “Heh, cute,” he muttered.

“Oh, yeah?” Elena turned on her heel and stalked away, even as she heard Chloe giggling again behind her. It was fine. Nate had broken up with her, they’d both moved on, and it was _fine_. The two of them would go their own way, she and Jeff would go back to the safe house, and eventually the leaden ball of anger sitting on her chest would disappear.

Jeff, to his credit, mostly managed to keep from smirking when she came over. “So what’s the plan?”

Elena glanced back at Nate and Chloe, the latter of whom was trailing her fingers down his chest. She scowled and looked away. “Same as before,” she said. “We go back to the safe house, back up the footage, get you a new battery. Maybe have something to eat before we hit the streets again.”

“Lunch sounds great,” he said. He looked past her to the other side of the street for a moment. “Look, uh, I know you might not like it, but if they know anything about Lazarevic, maybe we could--”

“No.” Elena shook her head. Jeff was probably right, the two of them might have information. But she couldn’t count on that information being good, and quite frankly, it wasn’t worth the headache or heartache of trying to work with Nate again. “No, the sooner we’re away from them, the better off we’ll be.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jeff was slumped to the side, his hat almost covering the single bullet hole in his forehead. It couldn’t cover the exit wound, though, nor the gory smear left on the table when he’d fallen. Elena crouched by his body, forcing herself to take steady, even breaths. She didn’t know why Lazarevic hadn’t killed them himself, but as long as she was still alive, there was a chance they could escape. She had to make it out of here. She had to make sure the world knew what had happened.

She had to make sure his family knew, at least.

“How can you work for that monster?” Elena asked, laying a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. _I’m sorry._

“Beats working against him, love,” Flynn replied.

“So, that’s it, then?” Nate asked, pacing back across the room. The remaining soldier raised his gun, but didn’t fire. “You’re just gonna mow us down in cold blood?”

“Looks that way, doesn’t it,” Flynn said, almost flippantly. “Get up.” Elena didn’t move. Either he’d shoot her where she knelt or he’d give her an opening—She heard him snarl and tensed her shoulders, then he grabbed her arm. “I said get up!”

Elena whirled around and put the full force of her turn into the punch. She hit him square in the nose; something crunched under her knuckles, and Flynn staggered back, clutching his face. “Run!” she screamed and dove towards the open wall behind them.

Nate hit the ground a second after her. They raced through the streets, dodging bullets and struggling not to slip on the rain-slick pavement, all while Lazarevic’s soldiers gained on them. Nate tore around a corner and rebounded off the far wall, but didn’t slow down, even though the street in front of them had collapsed. He put on a burst of speed and jumped for a rusted pipe sticking out of the wall. Elena knew her limits, and making that jump was well outside them. She ducked down behind a wooden crate and flinched as bullets thudded into the wall over her head.

Nate scrambled up a network of exposed pipes and bricks, then dropped flat, holding his hand out to her. “Elena, come on, you have to jump!”

Shit. She waited for a break in the shooting, then lunged to her feet and sprinted towards the ledge. Nate caught her arm, and she grabbed his wrist with her other hand. He started to pull her up, then swore loudly, his hand tightening around her for a second as a trail of blood ran down his arm. As soon as she found something to brace her feet against, she scrambled up to the ledge beside him.

“Are you--”

“Just a graze, go!” Nate rolled to his feet and took off down the alley again, Elena hot on his heels. He slowed down near another blown-out building and leaped over the wall. “C’mon, in here.”

She followed after him, ducking down behind the wall, and hugged her knees to her chest. Nate leaned over a bit, putting himself between her and the alley. It wouldn’t do a damn thing to protect her if any of the soldiers followed, but he was trying. He’d tried back when Lazarevic had showed up, too, drew their attention away from her and tried to barter the treasure for her life.

“You all right?” she asked, a bit out of breath.

Nate glanced down at her and gave her a half-smile. “Nothing that won’t heal.”

Good. That was good. She realized she was smiling back at him, and in spite of everything it felt so normal. Everything else, the city and Lazarevic and even Jeff, it all went out of her head, and for a second all she could think about was how glad she was that he was okay.

The second passed. Elena looked away first, clearing her throat to compose herself, and Nate pulled away and got to his feet. It didn’t matter how she might still feel about him. That was over. And this was so completely not the time. “I think we lost ‘em,” Nate said, peering back into the alley.

Elena stayed where she was, sitting on the cold stone floor and trying to catch her breath, while Nate patrolled the edges of the room. “I never should’ve gotten you into this mess,” he said from somewhere behind her.

She had no problem blaming him when he'd earned it, but this wasn’t his fault. “You didn’t,” she said. “I got here on my own.” Her story, her idea, her request to bring Jeff along…

“No, I mean… the rest of it.”

Elena sighed and swiped her hand across her face, wiping away the lingering rainwater. “We knew what the stakes were,” Elena replied. What they still were. They might not have ended up in that courtyard if they hadn’t run into Nate, but in the end, Jeff had been right. Nate knew a lot more about Lazarevic’s motives than she did. They still didn’t quite make sense, but at least she knew what he was after, if not why. She just had to tell herself that it would be worth it. Somehow.

She got to her feet and looked at Nate, who had his back to her as he studied the map in his hands. “So, uh, what do we do now?” she asked, grabbing a crate and moving it to the nearby table so she could sit. Her legs were still a bit shaky after that run.

Nate glanced over his shoulder at her. “I’m going after her.”

Oh, for god’s sake. Too much to hope that he’d think with his brain. “Of course you are, typical,” Elena muttered. “Go after her.”

Nate either didn’t hear or chose to ignore her grumbling. “Flynn said something about a train,” he said, coming back to the table with the map. “Which means they would’ve taken her to the rail yard.” He tapped the map and crossed to the other side of the room. “So it should be that way, past the water tower there.”

Elena looked up from the map. It was probably a futile effort, trying to talk sense into him, but she had to at least give it a shot. “Nate, she pulled a gun on us,” she pointed out. Chloe had clearly been working for Lazarevic, too, but that hadn’t stopped Nate from… associating with her.

“I know,” Nate replied, his tone alarmingly casual, and Elena briefly wondered how often he’d found himself held at gunpoint by someone he’d trusted.

“She was gonna pull the trigger, too, they just… beat her to it.” Chloe had proven to be completely self-centered, willing to leave a man to die to save herself, and Elena had little doubt that she’d have shot them both if it meant keeping herself alive.

Nate made a frustrated noise. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” she scoffed and looked back at the map. The rail yard wasn’t too far, just a few blocks away.

“Flynn knew she was with me,” Nate said, coming back to the table. “If Lazarevic finds out she double-crossed him, you know what he’ll do to her!”

“Yeah. I’ve seen his handiwork.” Jeff was just the latest and most personal in the long string of casualties she’d witnessed since arriving in the city.

Nate shook his head and gave a small shrug. “Then you know I don’t have much of a choice.”

Elena studied his face for a moment, then gave him a half-smile in spite of herself. For all that he denied it, Nate had a heroic streak, an inability to just leave people to their fate. It was why he’d helped Jeff, and it was why he was so set on going after Chloe. She was in danger, so he had to go after her. Simple as that. He was a genuinely good man, underneath the moments of stupidity and selfishness. And it was why she was still in love with him, even after everything that had happened.

“Honor among thieves, huh?” she asked, holding the map out to him.

He hesitated for a second before taking it from her. “Something like that,” he said and turned away, unfolding the map again to look it over.

She stared at him for a moment. He was going after Chloe, regardless of what she’d done, because he cared about her. How could she do anything different? “I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” she said.

Nate snorted. “I don’t have the faintest idea.”

Elena shook her head. “Oh, good to know that some things just never change.” She took a deep breath, pushed her grief and fear and anger and heartache aside, and got to her feet. “Okay. Let’s go.”

She made it halfway across the room before Nate whirled around to face her. “Whoa, whoa, no, you are not coming with me!”

She just held up a hand to cut off any further argument. “Nate. Shut up, okay?” She smiled at him again and tilted her head towards the water tower. “We have a train to catch.”


	3. Chapter 3

It took almost an hour of driving, sneaking, and backtracking before Elena made it back to the safe house on the edges of the city. She kept going over everything she needed to do-- contact the studio, gather her gear, find a truck, follow the train-- but when she unlocked the door and stepped inside, all of that disappeared underneath the weighty silence of grief.

All of Jeff's equipment was still there, scattered in messy piles around the room. She'd have to leave it; there was no way she could repack everything and carry all of it with her. Elena let out a heavy sigh and sank into a chair, rubbing one hand over her face. Jeff had been her colleague, and after spending a couple weeks holed up in a war zone together, they'd started to become friends.

And now he was dead, and it was her fault.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then leaned over and dug through the mass of cables and wires until she found the satellite phone. She scrolled through the numbers until she found the one she needed, then hit dial and closed her eyes again.

The phone rang three and a half times before Roger picked up. “Fisher, it's one-thirty in the morning,” he grumbled. “This had better be--”

“Jeff's dead.”

The line went silent. Elena didn't say anything else, just sat there and waited. She didn't want to repeat it more than she had to. “What?” Roger finally said.

“He's dead.” Her voice cracked a little, and she cleared her throat.

“Oh, Jesus.” She could hear rustling noises and creaking bedsprings in the background. The news had gotten him out of bed, at least. “What happened?”

“Lazarevic shot him.”

Roger sighed. “You're sure it was Lazarevic?” he asked, skepticism clear in his tone. “I mean--”

Elena's eyes snapped open, and she sat up straight, slamming a hand against the table to catch herself. “I was standing a foot away from him when he pulled the trigger!” she all but shouted. Roger had always been doubtful of her claims that Lazarevic was alive, and until a couple hours ago, she hadn't actually gotten a good enough look at the man to prove it. “It was a damn execution, okay, he shot Jeff in cold blood right in front of me!”

“Okay, Elena, okay.” Roger was clearly trying to pacify her. “Are you all right?”

She let out a harsh, mirthless laugh. “I'm not injured.” She definitely wouldn't say she was all right, not with Jeff dead and Nate heading off into the mountains on Lazarevic's personal cargo train.

“Okay.” He sighed. “I'll contact his family. You need to get out of there. Leave the city as soon as you can.”

“I will.” She wasn't lying. She was going to leave the city. She just wasn't heading anywhere safe.

“Okay. Good.” Roger sighed again. “Be careful out there. Contact me as soon as you can.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She hung up before he could say anything else. She had to keep it together long enough to catch up with Nate, or Lazarevic, or both.

Elena pushed herself to her feet and went for her bag, rummaging around until she found the bright orange mountaineering coat and heavy boots she'd bought for this trip. She'd have to travel light, but there were a few things she knew she couldn't leave behind. The phone, her passport, Jeff's passport-- the last thing his family needed was for his identity to get stolen, too-- a couple maps, and all the cash they had.

She made herself eat a granola bar and drink some water, though her appetite had long since vanished. She stopped at the door and cast one last look around the room. At least they'd only lost the footage from today; everything else had already been uploaded. Something about the war here would get out. Not enough to make a difference, though. That was why she had to keep going. She had to see this through.

Elena locked the door behind her and headed for the stairs. Time to go see if any of the surviving rebels would sell her a truck.


	4. Chapter 4

After spending more than two weeks in a war zone, finding bodies of men she'd interviewed days (or hours) before lying in the ruined streets and waking up to the sound of gunfire, the peace and quiet of the mountain village was downright jarring. Elena had been going non-stop since her plane had landed. Suddenly having nothing to do felt strange.

It felt like failure.

For all that the civil war seemed like it was a million miles away, Elena knew it was still raging at the far end of the river she could see from the edge of the village. Maybe without Lazarevic and his army, it would burn itself out, but so much damage had already been done. She'd gone into this with a plan to expose Lazarevic and his crimes, get the international community to take action. Instead, all she'd done was send back hours upon hours of war zone footage with no proof that Lazarevic was even alive, then gotten her cameraman killed.

Elena leaned against the fence and sighed. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since Lazarevic had executed Jeff in front of her. It didn't feel real, not yet. At least his family would know. Even if everything else here went completely wrong, she'd gotten that piece of news out.

She scrubbed a hand over her face. The longer she stayed here, the closer Lazarevic got to his goal-- whatever it was. Nate had claimed they were both after Shambhala and the Cintamanni Stone, but it didn't add up. Not just because they were legends, but because even if there was some truth to it, Lazarevic's pursuit of a massive raw sapphire made no sense. He didn't need the money, as evidenced by his seemingly unending supply of well-armed mercenaries. There was something more to this. And she had no way of figuring out what it was or how to stop it by sitting here.

She couldn't leave, though. Charging off on her own with next to no information was asking to get killed, yes, but more importantly... she couldn't leave Nate behind. Maybe it was selfish, but he'd nearly died, and from what Tenzin had told her, he wasn't quite out of the woods yet. She couldn't bring herself to leave until she knew if he was going to be all right.

“ _Hello?_ ”

Elena blinked, the small voice breaking into her morose thoughts, and she turned from the fence to see Tenzin's daughter eying her with unrestrained curiosity. She’d seen the girl briefly this morning; Tenzin had been escorting her to a neighbor’s house while Elena had disentangled herself from her blanket nest. “ _Hello,_ ” Elena replied, crouching down to the little girl's level. “ _My name's Elena. What's yours?_ ”

“ _Pema._ ” She gave Elena a shy smile, and Elena smiled back in spite of her brooding. “ _Papa says the sick man is your friend._ ”

Elena nodded. “ _Yes, he is._ ”

“ _I hope he gets better soon,_ ” Pema said. Elena took a breath to reply, but before she could speak, Pema continued, “ _He's sleeping in my bed._ ”

A laugh escaped before Elena could stop herself, and she put a hand to her mouth, shaking her head. “ _I hope he feels better soon, too,_ ” she said. “ _Then you can have your bed back._ ”

Pema nodded, clearly pleased that Elena shared her priorities. Elena glanced up when she heard Tenzin call for his daughter. “ _Papa wants to talk to you,_ ” she said, holding out her hand.

Probably why Pema had come over in the first place. Elena nodded and took Pema’s hand, letting the little girl lead her away from the fence and back towards the house. Tenzin smiled briefly when he saw his daughter. “ _There is someone who you should meet,_ ” Tenzin said, looking back to Elena. “ _I will stay here with your friend. Pema, can you take her to Schaefer’s house?_ ”

“ _Yes, Papa._ ” Pema tugged on Elena’s hand; Elena glanced at the door of Tenzin’s house for a moment, then followed after her. She didn’t want to leave Nate, but if anything changed, she wouldn’t be that far away. And it wouldn’t really make much of a difference if she was just outside or on the other side of the village if he…

No. He’d be fine. He had to be fine. Elena shook her head in an effort to banish the darker thoughts and turned her attention to the village around her. She hadn’t seen much of it when she’d arrived yesterday, being all but dead on her feet with exhaustion and grief and probably mild hypothermia. It was larger than she’d realized; Tenzin’s home was roughly in the middle, as best she could tell. And while the village might be remote, it was hardly cut off from the rest of the world, as evidenced by the staticky radio she heard through an open door and the kids playing a vigorous, muddy soccer game in one of the open fields.

Not to mention the person Pema was taking her to see. Schaefer wasn’t exactly the kind of name she’d expect to find up here. Elena discarded several theories about who this mystery person might be before giving it up. She’d find out soon enough.

Pema led her up a rise in the path to an open courtyard around a tall, brightly painted stupa in front of a large house. An elderly man stood on the porch, looking out over the courtyard; he straightened up and smiled when Pema waved at him. That had to be Schaefer, Elena guessed, unless this remote Tibetan village had any more white people tucked away.

“ _Good morning, Pema_ ,” Schaefer greeted her as they came up the stairs. He glanced up at Elena. “And good morning to you.”

Elena blinked. “Good—Good morning,” she replied.

Schaefer seemed amused by her confusion. “ _Come in,_ ” he said, stepping back to the door. “ _Pema, would like to draw a picture for your father?_ ”

She nodded, and Elena waited off to the side while Schaefer got her some paper and colored pencils. Once she was happily settled in by the fireplace, Elena followed Schaefer’s lead into the next room. “I apologize for my English,” he began, walking around the table. “I do not often have the opportunity to practice.”

“Oh—oh, no, your English is great,” Elena replied. His accent was German, she was fairly sure, but not so thick that she couldn’t understand him.

He chuckled. “That’s very kind of you,” he said as he took a few things off the shelf—a book and something wrapped up in a black cloth. He set them down on the table and waved at the chairs. “Please, have a seat,” he said. “My name is Karl Schaefer.”

“Elena Fisher.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” He sat down across from her with a faint grimace. “Might I ask who your friend is?”

“His name’s Nathan Drake,” Elena said. She hesitated, knowing that she needed to say more than that, but she wasn't sure how to explain what had brought him out here without sounding completely crazy.

"And how did the two of you end up in our little corner of the world?" Schaefer asked. He sounded sincerely curious, but the calculating look in his eyes made Elena think that he knew more than he was letting on.

She didn't have the energy for mind games. "We got here separately," Elena said. "I'm a journalist. I came here to track down a fugitive war criminal-- Zoran Lazarevic." Schaefer nodded, but didn't seem to recognize the name. "He came out here with an army, kicked off a civil war and tore the city apart. He and Nate were after the same thing-- Shambhala."

"And the Cintamani Stone," Schaefer said, sounding resigned.

Elena nodded. "How did you know?"

"Because seventy years ago, I came here seeking the same thing," he said, flipping open the book. It contained old black and white photographs, and Elena leaned forward to study them as he continued. "I was the only survivor of my company, and like your friend, I was brought to the village on the brink of death. I chose to remain here, rather than return to my former homeland."

Seventy years ago would have been 1939, making Germany-- and most of Europe-- a rather unattractive place to return to. Elena nodded. "What happened?"

"We failed for several reasons," Schaefer said, "but one of them was that we lacked this." He unwound the black cloth from a familiar-looking phurba; it took Elena a moment to recognize it as the one Nate had been carrying with him. "Tenzin brought it to me. He said your friend had it. Do you know where he found it?"

"No," Elena said. "He had it with him when we ran into each other in the city." Lazarevic had taken it, and Nate must have gotten it back somehow. "What is it? Besides a phurba, I mean."

Schaefer tapped the scowling face on the hilt. "It is the key to Shambhala," he said. "Whoever carries this will find the way opened."

Elena nodded, worrying at her bottom lip. "Nate said that the Stone was a massive raw sapphire," she said slowly. "But it doesn't make sense for Lazarevic to go after it, if that's all it is-- he doesn't need the money. Do you have any idea what it really is?"

Schaefer sighed. "Not precisely, no," he said. "The legends we followed spoke of an item of great power-- a jewel that could fulfill wishes. Some of the most ruthless warlords in history had mere shards of the Stone. But if one controlled the entire Stone itself..."

"That's what Lazarevic is after, then." That, at least, made sense. He wasn't after money-- he was after power. Elena thought of the destruction and brutality she'd seen in the city and shook her head. She had to stop him.

"It would seem so." Schaefer tapped the dagger again. "He will not make much progress without this, though."

Some good news, at least. "That's a relief."

"Indeed." Schaefer frowned slightly. "Now, I must ask-- why does your friend seek the Stone?"

She could guess what he really meant. Was Nate any different from Lazarevic? Did he want power, too? Was he a threat? "Because he thinks it's a sapphire worth millions of dollars," Elena replied, a bit wryly. "He's-- He's a fortune hunter. Always chasing the next adventure."

Schaefer visibly relaxed and chuckled. "He and I have much in common, then," he said. "Or we would have, many years ago. How is he doing?”

Elena sighed, her gaze dropping to the table. “Better,” she said. “Tenzin seems to think he’ll be all right, but…” He’d been shot, caught in a train wreck, and who knew what else had happened to him since they’d parted ways. It was hard not to worry.

“I would have faith in him,” Schaefer said. “He learned from his grandfather, who managed to keep me alive when I came here.” He smiled. “Once your friend wakes, I would like to speak to him. Perhaps between the three of us, we can find some answers.”

She managed a small smile and nodded. “I hope so.”


	5. Chapter 5

Elena checked her watch, glanced up towards the mountains, and sighed, as she had every few minutes for the last hour. Nate and Tenzin had been gone for a few hours now, and she was starting to get worried. Schaefer hadn't exactly given details on how long it would take for them to find his expedition and return.

Pema's laughter caught her attention, and she looked down into the courtyard with a smile. Schaefer was on babysitting duty, apparently, watching a number of the village's children as they played what looked like tag. Elena shook her head and got to her feet. She ought to go join them. It'd take her mind off things, give her something to do besides sit around and worry.

She was halfway down the hill when the screaming started. Elena whirled around, reaching for a gun she wasn't carrying, scanning the horizon. The all-too-familiar sound of automatic gunfire reached her moments later, and her mouth went dry. "Oh, god..."

The gunfire grew louder, and thick, black smoke began pour up from the far side of the village. Around her, people were starting to run-- some of them away from the danger, others towards it, most of the latter carrying guns and crossbows. Elena turned to look down the hill at Schaefer; the rest of the children had scattered, running to their parents, but Pema had stayed put, clinging to the old man's leg. Schaefer was staring at the smoke with an expression of resignation.

Lazarevic's army. They were here for the dagger. No other explanation, they'd come here because... because she and Nate had come here.

For a second, the guilt and horror threatened to swallow her whole. Then she shook her head and bolted down the hill. "Go!" she shouted at Schaefer. "Take her and go, dammit!"

Her words seemed to snap him out of his stupor, too. He nodded and scooped Pema into his arms, then hurried away, following after the other fleeing villagers. Elena watched them for a second, then spun around and ran the other way, towards the gunfire and screaming.

Story of her life. She crashed through the door of Tenzin's house; Tenzin had put her gun in a drawer, where Pema couldn't get at it, safe and out of the way. Elena found it after what felt like an eternity and shoved it into her holster before taking off running again.

She caught up with the village's defenders near the central market area. It was pure chaos, smoke and gunfire and shouts filling the air. Elena threw herself into cover behind a wall and scanned the area, then took aim at the nearest soldier. She forced herself to concentrate on shooting and not think about the villagers bleeding out in the mud or the pair of bodies she'd caught a glimpse of in the house behind her. Anger and grief and guilt wouldn't do her any good now. She had to focus.

There were too many of them. The soldiers just kept pouring in, flooding the streets, and the villagers started to retreat. It wasn't an occupation, though-- the soldiers were rolling through, leaving death and destruction in their wake, but they weren't really trying to hold anything. If they could get behind them... Elena fired another couple shots, then made a break for the next wall. Stay alive. Save whoever she could. That was all she could do now.


	6. Chapter 6

Elena grabbed Nate's arm and hauled him up over the ledge as the last of the bridge collapsed into the ravine below. He slumped against the low wall and gasped for breath. “I am _never_ crossing a bridge with you again,” he declared.

She huffed out a breath. “Deal.”

Nate kept his eyes closed and his hands held palms-up on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Elena leaned forward and peered at his hands, then gasped in spite of herself. “Oh, god, Nate...”

“I know.” The raw, unfinished boards of the bridge hadn't been kind: splinters, some of them over an inch long, were embedded in his palms and fingers. With a pained groan, Nate opened his eyes and looked at his hands, then winced as he started trying to push one splinter out with his thumb.

Elena sighed. “Stop that,” she said, taking his right hand in both of hers. “I can probably get most of these.”

He frowned at her. “I can take care of it myself.”

“I know.” She didn't look up at him as she caught one splinter between her nails and yanked it free. He hissed in pain. “But you don't have to.”

Nate fell silent after that, save occasional pained noises or muttered curses. Elena kept working and did her best to ignore the blood collecting under her nails. Better to be dealing with a bunch of splinters than having to continue on alone. She left what looked like the worst one for last, a shard of wood dug deep into his ring finger. “Sorry,” she said.

“For wha-- ow!” Nate yelped and yanked his hand away. “Shit, that hurt.” He raised his hand to his mouth and sucked at the wound, giving her sad puppy eyes over his fingers.

Elena held up the splinter so he could see; he winced from behind his hand. “One down,” she said and reached for his left hand.

Nate sighed. “Thanks,” he said, dropping his hand.

She snorted and tugged another splinter free. “Was that sarcastic?”

“No!” He shook his head. “No, I-- this would've been a lot worse if I'd had to do it on my own.”

Elena glanced up at him for a moment, then gave him a faint smile. “You're welcome,” she said. “And, uh, sorry again.”

“Oh, shi-- ouch!”

It took another several minutes before she'd gotten all the splinters she could find. “That's the best I can do,” she said, turning his hand from side to side. “If there's any left, they'll have to wait until we get somewhere with a first aid kit.”

“Feels a lot better,” Nate said.

“Good.” Elena smiled at him, absently rubbing her thumb against the side of his hand. He smiled back, and she didn't miss how his gaze dipped from her eyes to her lips.

She looked away and squeezed his hand briefly before letting go and getting to her feet. Not the time, not the place-- although once this was all over, she knew they had to talk about whatever was going on between them. He still had feelings for her, that much was clear, and she knew she was still in love with him. She wasn't going to let him disappear for a year again, not without at least talking about it.

Elena shook her head slightly and held her hands out to Nate. Later. Once they'd saved Schaefer and stopped Lazarevic. “C'mon,” she said. “We need to keep moving.”

“Yeah.” He took her hands and let her pull him to his feet. Nate flexed his fingers a few times, winced, then nodded at the door. “Let's see where this goes.”


	7. Chapter 7

Elena took one last look at Schaefer’s body before turning away to follow Nate out of the room. How many more people would she fail to save before they finally stopped Lazarevic? Jeff, Schaefer, the people in Tenzin’s village, the rebels… She pulled the door shut and shook her head slightly. No. She could beat herself up about it later. Right now, she had work to do.

Nate stood by the railing, peering down into the lower levels of the tower, but he turned towards her at the sound of the door closing. “Look--” he began, but Elena cut him off.

“I think we should split up.”

He blinked. “What?”

“No, listen,” she said, sensing his impending argument. “I can go scope out that secret entrance thing, and you can see about getting the dagger back.”

Nate frowned, then nodded slightly. “Yeah, okay. That’s good thinking.” Elena nodded back and started to move towards the stairs. “Just, uh, keep your head down,” Nate added. “And stay in radio contact.”

“Yeah.” She tapped the radio on her belt, just to make sure it was still there, then headed for the stairs.

She’d just started her descent when she heard Nate speak again. “Good luck,” he added, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear him. But the concern in his voice was unmistakable, and the way he’d said it…

Elena hesitated for a moment, then shook her head and continued down the stairs. Not the time. She kept putting so many things off and burying so many emotions; the aftermath of this whole thing wasn’t going to be fun, she knew that much. But she didn’t have much of a choice. It wasn’t like she could really deal with her grief or guilt or complicated feelings for Nate while sneaking around a monastery full of Lazarevic’s mercenaries.

She paused on the ground floor and looked up in time to see Nate swing on a rope from one side of the tower to the other. He landed safely on the side of a pillar, and within moments, he’d climbed out of her view. “Good luck to you, too,” she murmured.

Once she was outside in the snow, she planted her hands on her hips and tried to review what she’d seen of the monastery so far. Since it was hiding a city, the entrance had to be fairly large. There hadn’t been many places that could have concealed something like that. That courtyard she and Nate had come through on their way here was a decent candidate, though, and it wouldn’t require her to backtrack very far. “Right,” she said to herself and started off through the snow.


	8. Chapter 8

Everything hurt. Walking, leaning on Chloe, even breathing sent pain shooting through her. Elena could feel the shrapnel in her skin, shifting and cutting her open more every time she moved. And she had to keep moving. They had to stop Lazarevic somehow.

Nate fell behind, checking for stragglers, as Chloe half-carried her onto the bridge. Elena knew she had to stay on her feet, had to keep walking, but it was getting harder and harder to make her legs obey. “Here,” Chloe murmured. “Sit for a minute, catch your breath…”

Elena whimpered as Chloe eased her down on a fallen chunk of stone. There was blood smeared along Chloe’s arm and side, and Elena knew all too well that most of it belonged to her. Most people couldn’t survive losing more than two liters of blood; she wasn’t sure how much she’d lost by now, but it was enough to be dangerous.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden, chilling surge of fear that shot through her. She didn’t want to die. Not here, not now. She couldn’t die now, it wasn’t fair…

“Okay, I think that’s the last of ‘em,” Nate said, and Elena opened her eyes as he limped over. He holstered his gun and crouched by her side, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder as he looked her over with wide, concerned eyes. “Hey, Elena, how you doing?”

She wanted to tell him she was fine, that it would be okay, anything to make him stop looking at her like that. He was as scared as she was, and that made it even worse. But all that came out was a pained whimper. “Not good,” Chloe translated.

Nate lightly rubbed her shoulder. “Just hang in there,” he said. “I’m counting on you.” Elena managed a weak nod, even as her eyes fell shut again. She heard Nate stand up and move away. “Head for the bridge,” he said. “Go as fast as you can.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Chloe asked. Elena knew the answer. She knew what Nate was doing. It was exactly what she’d do, if their places were switched. That didn’t make it any less painful. Nate was hurt too, and if Lazarevic had already gotten to the sap… the three of them combined had barely survived their encounters with those Guardian creatures. If Nate went to stop him, there was a good chance he wouldn’t come back.

Chloe realized it, too, a few seconds later. “No,” she said. “No way.”

“Chloe, I have to end this.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t you dare take on this—this stupid crusade!”

Nate was right. Elena knew it, but the thought of him going off by himself… she pressed her hands against the stone and tried to sit up. If she could walk on her own, then Chloe could go with him. They had a better chance together than Nate did on his own. Pain lanced through her side, and Elena moaned, slumping over a bit. Dammit. Chloe immediately put a hand on her leg, trying to still her. “It’s okay.”

“Just get her out of here,” Nate ordered.

“Not without you!” Chloe sounded close to tears. She really did care about him, didn’t she. For all that she’d put him through, she did love him.

Elena could hear Nate’s footsteps moving away, one step at a time. “If that stuff could really transform Lazarevic and his army--”

“Please don’t do this--”

“If it could actually make him invincible and I didn’t try to stop him--”

“But this is suicide!” Chloe said. “And you know it.”

Nate was silent for a moment. Elena knew he wouldn’t change his mind, wouldn’t walk away. The same heroic streak that made him help Jeff and try to save Chloe wouldn’t _let_ him walk away. “Just go,” he said. “Get as far away from this place as you can.”

More footsteps, a distant thud, then the heavy silence told her Nate was gone. Chloe let out a shaky breath. “Dammit,” she muttered. “Dammit, dammit, _damn_ you, Nate.”

Elena swallowed hard and forced her eyes open. “You should... go after him,” she said. “You can help him...”

“God, is this a competition?” Chloe asked, getting to her feet. “Trying to out-martyr each other.” She helped Elena stand; the motion sent pain shooting through Elena's side, and she couldn't quite choke back a pained sob. “It's all right,” Chloe said. “You're all right, come on. Let's get you out of here.”

The bridge seemed unending. Elena's vision kept blurring and going dark at the edges, and it was getting harder and harder to keep walking. Chloe kept up a steady stream of murmured encouragements and occasional mutterings about Nate's stupid heroics. It was something to focus on beyond the exhaustion and fear and pain.

By the time they reached the far side of the bridge, Elena was barely walking, her feet dragging as Chloe hauled her to the base of the stairs. “Okay, here, just... sit here for a second,” Chloe said, easing her down. Elena slumped back against the stone and tried to focus on breathing. Breathing was important.

The ground beneath them shuddered violently, and the tree at the far end of the bridge burst into explosions of blue and purple flame. “Oh, my god,” Chloe breathed. “Nate...”

Elena closed her eyes. If he didn't make it back... He'd have taken Lazarevic out with him, she was sure of that, but it wasn't much comfort. Another explosion rocked their end of the bridge, jolting Elena to the side. She cried out in pain as her burned and bloodied left arm slammed into the edge of the stairs.

“It's okay,” Chloe said, her hands on Elena's shoulders as she tried to steady her. “It's okay...” The explosions grew louder, and Chloe moved away abruptly. Elena could hear her shouting, but it was so hard to focus...

She must have blacked out, because the next thing she knew, someone was pulling her to her feet. “Come on, we gotta get her out of here,” Nate said, voice ragged. He was alive. That was... that was good. “Up we go.”

“Come on, Sunshine,” Chloe said. They started up the stairs, while behind them, Shambhala continued to explode. “What the hell did you do back there?”

“Oh, you know,” Nate said, and Elena could hear the edge of that familiar, borderline-hysterical laughter in his voice, “saved the world.”

They reached the top of the stairs, and Nate stepped away briefly; Elena could hear him gasping for breath. The ground shuddered again. “Dammit, we gotta move faster,” Nate said, and abruptly scooped her into his arms. Any other time, and she might have laughed at that. Sweeping her off her feet. But all she could do now was turn her face to his shoulder and whimper in pain. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I'm sorry...”

She wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault. She wanted to tell him she loved him, because she was pretty sure she was dying and she wouldn't get another chance. But she couldn't get the words out before everything went dark.


	9. Chapter 9

Waking up came as a bit of a surprise. She hadn’t quite been expecting to do that. Elena groaned as the aches and pains of her injuries cut through the darkness, then rolled her head to the side and cracked her eyes open.

“Elena?”

Nate’s voice seemed almost unbearably loud, and she grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt him gently brush her hair off her face, and she opened her eyes again, this time enough to actually see something. She was somewhere in the village, based on what she could see of the room, lying on a bed under a mound of blankets. Nate was perched on the edge of a chair beside her, his eyes wide as he searched her face. He looked awful, simply put, the dark circles under his eyes and half-healed cuts stark on his too-pale skin. “Hi,” she managed.

The relieved smile he gave her was almost blinding. “Hi,” he murmured. “How’re you feeling?”

“Alive.”

Nate chuckled. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you are.” He reached out to brush his fingers against her cheek, and Elena could feel his hand shaking. She wanted to ask him where they were, how long they’d been here, what had happened to everyone else, but all that came out was a weak cough.

“Here, let me get you some water,” Nate said, almost knocking over the chair as he scrambled to his feet. Elena watched as he crossed the room to a small table and picked up a pitcher; after a moment, he set the pitcher back down and curled his hands into fists, holding them closed for a few seconds before trying again.

Elena started to push herself upright as he came back, but when she tried to bend her left arm, burning pain flared along her skin. “Whoa, whoa, take it easy,” Nate said. He set the cup down on the chair behind him and carefully slid his hand under her back. “Here, I’ve got you.”

With Nate’s help and the addition of a few pillows behind her head, she managed to sit up enough to drain the cup of water. “Better?” he asked.

She nodded. “Where are we?”

“Schaefer’s house, back in the village,” Nate said, returning to his chair. “And before you ask, it’s been about three days.”

Elena blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Nate leaned forward and fussed with the edges of her blankets. She wondered if he’d been here the whole time, and if he’d gotten any sleep in those three days. It certainly didn’t look like it. Before she could ask anything else, though, Nate glanced over his shoulder at the door. “Uh, Tenzin told me to come get him when you woke up—at least, I think he did, I still don’t really speak Tibetan. So I’m—I’ll be right back, okay?”

Going by the look on his face, Elena was pretty sure that if she said it wasn’t okay, he’d stay right where he was until Tenzin happened to drop by. So she nodded. “Okay,” she said, then gave him a half-smile. “I’ll be here.”

Nate chuckled and got to his feet again. He disappeared through the door, and Elena leaned back against the pillows. Hopefully she’d be able to stay awake long enough for Nate to go to wherever Tenzin was and then come back—

“ _Good to see you back with us,_ ” Tenzin said as he came into the room, Nate close on his heels.

Elena blinked. “That was— _that was fast_ ,” she said.

Tenzin shrugged. “ _Pema and I have been staying here,_ ” he explained. “ _Along with a few others who lost their homes in the attack._ ”

Her heart sank. “ _Oh, Tenzin, I’m so sorry._ ”

“ _We were lucky—the damage was mostly to the upper floor. It can be rebuilt. But it is too cold to be sleeping without a roof._ ” Tenzin shook his head and changed the subject. “ _I need to see how your injuries are healing so far._ ” He paused, then looked over his shoulder to Nate, who was hovering anxiously behind him. “ _Drake, you need to wait outside._ ”

Nate looked at him and shrugged helplessly. Tenzin sighed and muttered something under his breath, too quiet for Elena to hear. “ _Outside,_ ” he repeated, shooing Nate towards the door. “ _I will come get you soon._ ”

“But I--”

“Nate, it’s okay,” Elena said. “Wait outside, he’ll come get you when he’s done, okay?”

The look on his face said it wasn’t okay at all, but he went. Tenzin closed the door behind him and returned to the chair. “ _He has not left your side for three days,_ ” he said, a bit knowingly if Elena was reading his tone right.

She just sighed in lieu of replying. Tenzin eased the blankets back, and Elena belatedly realized that her clothes had been replaced by a loose robe. At least she still had her underwear and bra, bloodstained as they both were. Tenzin leaned over her, removing and replacing bandages and occasionally asking her to move her arm. “ _How bad was it?_ ” Elena finally asked, as he wrapped fresh bandages around her left bicep. The shrapnel wound and burns there hadn’t been pretty.

Tenzin sighed. “ _It was good that they got you here when they did,_ ” he replied. Elena swallowed hard and closed her eyes while he finished with the bandages. Back in Shambhala, she’d been sure that she was dying, but actually hearing it confirmed… She opened her eyes again once Tenzin replaced the blankets. “ _You should stay in bed until tomorrow, at least,_ ” he said. “ _You need to rest._ ” He paused, then his lips quirked in a faint smile. “ _As does Drake. Perhaps you will have better luck convincing him to sleep than his friends._ ”

Elena chuckled. He patted her lightly on the shoulder, then headed for the door. She expected Nate to be waiting on the other side, but apparently he’d gone a bit farther than that, as it took a couple minutes for him to return. “Hey,” he said. “Doing better?”

She shrugged her right shoulder. “I guess.” She wasn’t in a state, mentally or physically, to deal with her injuries and the scars they’d leave behind. “Tenzin said you had friends here,” Elena said, emphasizing the plural. “Who…?”

“Sully got here late yesterday,” Nate said. “And Chloe’s still here.”

Elena nodded. “That’s good.” She sighed, blinking heavily, and shook her head slightly.

“Gonna go back to sleep?” Nate asked.

“Think so.” She glanced over at him. “You should sleep, too.”

“I’m fine.”

“You look like hell, Nate,” she pointed out gently.

He made a face at her. “Thanks.”

Elena frowned at him. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep?”

He searched her face for a moment, his expression going serious, then nodded. “Promise.”

“Good.” She let her eyes fall shut and settled back against the pillows. A few moments passed, and there was a distinct absence of the sound of Nate standing up and leaving. “You're supposed to be sleeping,” Elena said.

Nate sighed. “I will.”

She opened her eyes just enough to glare at him. “Nate...”

“All right, all right,” he said as he stood up. “Only because you'll keep nagging me if I don't.”

Whatever he had to tell himself to protect his fragile ego. Nate hesitated by the side of her bed, looking down at her, and for a moment Elena thought he was going to kiss her. But instead, he walked to the end of the bed and kicked off his shoes, then disappeared from view as he settled down on the floor. He probably had a couple blankets down there, and much as she wanted to tell him to go sleep in a proper bed, she knew the argument wouldn't go anywhere. After all, she'd done the same thing when he'd been the one injured and unconscious for three days.

She sighed and closed her eyes again. She still didn't know where they would go from here, but now, at least, they had time to figure it out.


	10. Chapter 10

Elena tugged her second boot on with a sigh of relief. She'd finally gotten her (surprisingly clean) clothes back, which meant she could leave the house. Tenzin had told her she really shouldn't be out of bed, but Elena was pretty sure that at this point she was going to go completely nuts if she didn't get some fresh air. She'd spent majority of the last three days in bed, unable to do much except listen to the sounds of construction and try to teach Nate some Tibetan. The latter was at least helpful to Nate, but otherwise, she felt terribly useless. Especially given that the destruction to the village was partially her fault.

Not that anyone would let her help with hammering boards or anything. But she'd feel better just being outside for a bit. Baby steps.

She actually felt pretty good as she made her way out of the bedroom. Halfway across the front room, though, Elena found herself leaning against the wall as she walked. Dammit. She sighed and shook her head, slowing her pace towards the front doors.

“Aren't you supposed to be in bed?” Sully asked.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, then returned her attention to the door. “I'm fine.”

Sully heaved a sigh, and while she couldn't see him, she was pretty sure he was rolling his eyes. “Uh-huh.” Elena looked up again as Sully came over and carefully took her arm, supporting her as they walked. “So where are you going?”

“Just outside for a while,” she said. “Getting a bit stir crazy in here.”

“Fair enough.” Sully pushed open the doors, and Elena took a deep breath of crisp, clean air. Her cracked ribs throbbed dully, but she ignored it. Nate and Chloe were in the courtyard below, talking about something, though they were too far away for Elena to make out the words.

“Careful on the stairs, now,” Sully said. He made his way down them backwards and held his arm out for Elena to steady herself on. Much as she hated to admit it, she needed the help, especially when one of the gashes on her leg started to ache again. “Easy does it,” Sully said, reaching for her other arm, but Elena swatted him away.

“I'm _fine_.”

Sully just let out another defeated sigh. Chloe walked away from Nate as Sully and Elena approached, and Elena frowned slightly. Hopefully she'd get another chance to talk with Chloe... she still wasn't quite sure what she thought of her, but Chloe had helped save her life. She wanted to thank her again for that, if nothing else.

“Well, look who's not supposed to be out of bed,” Nate said with a grin as he turned to face them. He looked better, too. Amazing what a couple nights of sleep could do.

“She's a lousy patient,” Sully replied. “Stubborn as all hell.”

He was one to talk, calling her stubborn. “I'm not stubborn, I'm just restless,” Elena said, pushing his arm away. Sully chuckled, and turned his attention to Nate, asking after the 'giant sapphire' again. Elena was just glad he was letting her stand on her own. She could manage that, at least.

“Just a metaphor, I'm afraid,” Nate said with a rueful grin.

Sully shook his head. “Metaphor ain't gonna pay your bills, kid.”

“Eh, something else'll come along,” Nate said. “You just gotta have faith!” Elena glanced at him as he stepped closer to her and held out his arm. She didn't really need to lean on him right now, but he looked so hopeful. She hesitated for only a second before linking her arm with his. She could let him be chivalrous for once.

Sully snorted at Nate's words. “Yeah, well, that and a quarter'll get you twenty-five cents.” Nate shrugged, apparently unconcerned about the financial side of his work, as always. Sully glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at the two of them. “Uh, which way'd Chloe go?” Nate pointed off towards the village proper; Sully gave them a brief wave and grinned. “See you later.”

Of course. “Oh, no,” Elena muttered, shaking her head.

“You're a dirty old man, Sullivan!” Nate called as Sully strode off. Sully didn't argue the point.

Elena felt another pang of guilt as Nate placed Schaefer's amulet at the base of the shrine. She hadn't been able to save him. She hadn't been able to save a lot of people. But they had stopped Lazarevic and destroyed the Stone, just like Schaefer had wanted. It wasn't enough to counter the guilt, but it helped some. He'd be glad that it was done.

She wrapped both arms around Nate's as they made their way across the courtyard. It _was_ done now. No more shooting or running or near-death experiences. Just the two of them and a lot of questions. Elena took a deep breath and asked the most important one. “So, where do we go from here, huh?” Nate stopped walking abruptly, and for a split-second, Elena's heart sank. She knew he still cared about her, and she still loved him, but if he panicked and bolted again she'd have to let him go for good.

He blinked once, then smiled and turned to face her. “I don't know,” he said with a shrug, and before Elena could respond he leaned down and kissed her. It took her a moment to get over her shock and kiss him back, her hands coming up to his shoulders, and oh, it was just like she remembered, like it hadn't been over a year since their last one. She hadn't quite been expecting this-- a little more hesitance on his part, if nothing else. Unexpected, yes, but definitely not bad.

Nate chuckled as he drew back. “I haven't thought that far ahead.”

“Of course not,” Elena replied with a laugh. “But then again, neither have I.” And for now, maybe they didn't need a plan. Just being together was enough.

“Good.”

Elena wrapped her arm around his again as they started walking. “So,” she began, “on a scale from one to ten, how scared were you that I was gonna die?” An eight, at least. Maybe a nine.

They came to a stop by the fence, and Elena leaned her head against his shoulder as he considered the question. “Four,” Nate said.

“A four!?”


End file.
